I made a new years resolution this year, which is stupid, but I did it with the full knowledge that no one ever keeps new years resolutions.
Here I am, a living fucking statistic.
My resolution was to create. Simply that. I used to paint and draw and make every day, but not since having kids.
I’m the kind of person who can’t create in a dirty space. So I have to clean up first. By the time I’ve done that, I’m either filling children requests or making just feels like work because I’ll only have to clean up again after.
Reading books makes me simultaneously happy and sad. I’m happy because I feel like I’m expanding my world and knowledge, but sad because people my age are creating on a deeper and more successful level.
It’s the 14th of January. I’m 25 years old. There’s still time.
My mantra: there’s still time (to be Lena Dunham)
posted on the go; ignore mistakes